Never Forever
by Blue the Werewolf
Summary: Bakura and Ryou have always had conflict. But, when they get into an accident, can Bakura wait for Ryou?


Here come Bakura and Ryou! Enjoy!

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Bakura leisurely lied back in his seat. The almost-real pleather squeaked against his oversized cargo pants. Bakura stared down at their fabric. Every fiber knitted together in a hypnotic pattern. It held his attention. He could not help it. Boredom had set in and he had nothing else to do. A stray hair brushed over his eyes. Bakura slowly drifted back to reality. He gently pushed it away and sighed. It had seemed like hours since he started the trip. Yet, as Bakura looked out to the roadside, a sign saying, "You are now leaving Domino," flashed by.

The setting sun caught the convertible's hood in its sunlight. The pinkish gleam that glittered made Bakura smile. His wax job had not been for nothing. The car was only a week old, anyway. Bakura had waited months for it to be customized for him. Its scarlet paint job, black leather seats, and fins had been worth the wait. Plus, the flames that snaked along the convertible's sides added a special something. If Bakura was at the wheel, he would have revved the engines right about now. It was all his.

He leaned his head back into the plush seat. The wind pulled his snowy white bangs away from his face. It was relaxing to be able to travel without actually driving. Bakura tilted his view over to his hikari. Ryou was cheerfully smiling as he steered the car over the grayed asphalt. He noticed his yami's stare. "So, did you have fun today?"

He was talking about the party. "Yeah, I guess." Ryou tugged at his seat belt. He had always been the one for safety, never going anywhere without wearing it. Bakura, on the other, never "buckled up". When would he need it, anyway? He closed his eyes and let the gentle rock on the convertible calm him.

"Well, I thought it was fun, too. But, I would like to get home." Bakura pretended to not hear the comment. Millions of answers swirled around in his head. Bakura knew not to say any of them. They would hurt his hikari's feelings. If he had said what he wanted in the first place, there would have been no party. There would have been something else.

It had been weeks ago when Ryou finally went with his yami on one of his "fun nights". As usually, Bakura first went down to the _Lava Pit_ for some dancing. Ryou had been so nervous. He had told Bakura that he wanted to see what his yami did without him, so Bakura dragged him downtown one night. A cloud of smoke hung in the air as Ryou struggled not to suffocate. Red lights streamed through the air giving everything a fiery appearance. The throbbing mass of dancers split as Bakura pulled him through the stage. On the other side, they sat down at a bar. The yami started to gulp down shots. Ryou did not even notice that Bakura had a shot glass in his hand. "Bakura?" Ryou tentatively asked.

"What?" The smell of vodka on his breathe almost Ryou vomit.

"Um, I think I'm gonna go dance." Ryo hopped off his bar stool and headed for the dance floor. It seemed to envelope him. Soon, he was surrounded by people who were bumping to a vicious beat. He quickly stumbled out of the mass. Personal space was a major thing for Ryou. Someone hit his back. A glass of gin poured all over him, soaking into his clothes and hair. The waiter apologized while rolling his eyes. That was it. Ryou knew he was not supposed to be there.

He found his drunken yami still at the bar. Bakura could barely hold still as his body swayed. Ryou walked up. "Bakura, can we please go home now?"

"Shut up! All you do is whine and complain and get me to fix your problems." His voice was slurred with the drunken numbness Bakura felt. "Get someone else to lean against." Bakura threw his glass at Ryou. The hikari did not see it in time and the glass shattered against his chest. Carefully, Ryou desperately tried to wipe off the glass pieces that were embedded in his shirt.

"What wrong!?" he cried. "I thought you like have me around. You said I was yours!"

"You dumbass, I never wanted you. I was only around you because I had to. You are so pitiful, how could you live without me?" Bakura finished.

Ryou wiped his tear-streaked face as he ran out of the nightclub. How could his yami be you horrible? Bakura had always been with Ryou since he had first gotten the ring. They we two pieces to a puzzle. They could not be whole without each other. Ryou cursed ever knowing his demented yami. All he could was pain as his fell to his knees. The cold sidewalk cement ripped his pants. He tried to calm himself with every labored breath that he took. Nothing would relieve that hurt.

Bakura tried to apologize the next day. He left message after message pleading for forgiveness. Ryou finally answered and their fight ended as quickly as it had begun. It did not really matter to Bakura, though. He could say, "I'm sorry" a million times and it would still mean nothing to him. But, Ryou was so easy to get back. The worst thing you could do to him was not talk. He needed the warm comfort of people. Friends were so valued to him.

The thick effects of the vodka were not to blame. It had not made Bakura say those blackened words. That was the way he felt. He constantly resented his hikari. Ryou's innocence and helplessness was so irritating. Bakura felt like he always had to keep guard. The hikari clung to him at every turn, never letting go. He would follow your orders, yet would lie after simple questions.

Bakura had even dared to express his feelings to the fool. After months of being around Ryou, he finally found a way to get near him. Ryou lied in his bed on day reading. His glasses lied on the end of his nose and a mountain of pillows surrounded him. Bakura swooped in. Without even asking, he slid onto a spot next to the hikari. Ryou looked up out of surprised. Returning the glance, Bakura smiled sexily and moved closer. Quickly, Ryou returned his sight to the book. The yami could tell he was trying to ignore him. Bakura began to caress Ryou's calf with the tip of his toe. The boy inched away from him.

Bakura continued to smirk. He would continue to play. "You know we've been together in this apartment for a while and ... I know you love me and that I love you."

Ryou dropped his book and slipped off the bed's edge. "I'm sorry. I – I – just can't now." Ryou turned and swiftly walked out of the room. Bakura heard the front door close shut shortly after. There on the bed, the yami was left. He had you told Ryou that he loved him and had gotten nothing back. His hand clutched the sheet that covered the mattress. Bakura could feel a secret anger flaring in his mind. Ryou had, yet gain, pushed him down.

Something violently brought Bakura out of his deep thoughts. He opened his eyelids only to see a swirl of blurred colors. The car was spinning around uncontrolled. Bakura sat up and looked over at Ryou. He was desperately turning the steering wheel to get the convertible straightened. A look of pure terror covered his face. Bakura looked down at the road. Sparks shot up as the convertible's metal rims scraped against the ground. The tire was gone.

Cars swerved out of their path as they entered the busy on-coming lane. The car began to slow to a stop. A loud single noted horn sounded near them. Bakura turned around. A giant 18-wheeler was only yards away. Its huge mass rumbled closer and closer at a staggering speed. The yami clutched the seat and closed his eyes. Everything went mute.

All he felt was his whole body being jerked out of his seat and his face hitting the harsh concrete.

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Not over yet! Come back for next chapter. Review, please!


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